


Shades of Love

by STS0901



Series: The resurrection of the stag and the doe [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Angst and Drama, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst and Tragedy, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Distrust, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Family Drama, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley Friendship, Hermione Granger & Harry Potter Friendship, Horcrux Hunting, M/M, Morally Grey Draco Malfoy, Redemption, Sacrifice, Second Chances, Second War with Voldemort, Spy Severus Snape, The Deathly Hallows, Ultimate Sacrifice, secret communication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 14:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29594091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/STS0901/pseuds/STS0901
Summary: Four Horcruxes, three friends, two lovers and one goal: Voldemort's demise.Or, to put it in the words of our two beloved black-haired men:Trust vs. DoubtRemorse vs. RuthlessnessFriendship vs. HatredHumbleness vs. ArroganceSacrifice vs. SelfishnessKindheartedness vs. PrideGrief vs. SatisfactionBelief vs. FactsSequel to "Becoming One" - it is strongly recommended to have read it before. :)(In accordance to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, although focus and details differ quite a bit.)
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Series: The resurrection of the stag and the doe [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088657
Comments: 14
Kudos: 53





	1. 4 Privet Drive

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back!!! First, I'd like to say how grateful I am for your positive feedback on part 1 of this series and I dearly hope that you will like part 2 just as much! :) 
> 
> So far, I am planning on weekly updates.
> 
> English is still not my native language, so please don't be shy to notify me if I make too many or too big mistakes!
> 
> Trigger warning: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, violence, self-sacrifice, torture and occasional swear words will appear through the storyline, as well as sexual content.

Returning to his relatives’ home always had been a bitter affair. This time, however, as he sat on the backseat of Uncle Vernon’s new company car, which seemed to adapt to the owner’s growing volume year by year, new fears and uncertainties rose inside him the closer they got to Surrey.

Thanks to the visits of the Weasleys and Dumbledore, Harry was sure that he would no longer be starved or locked up, but compared to the unanswered questions of what his future would hold for him and everyone he knew, he secretly wished to be ten again; playing with improvised toys in the cupboard under the stairs in order to ignore the growling of his empty stomach.

The moment Uncle Vernon parked the car and instructed Harry to carry their shopping bags into the house as well, a small owl greeted them already with a euphoric screech. Pig.

Ignoring his aunt’s nagging about what the neighbours would think, he snatched Ron's owl and stormed inside.

Apparently, the Order was determined to protect Harry even more now that Dumbledore would never again pull the strings for any of them. According to Arthur Weasleys unusual stern tone, they planned to re-locate the Dursleys should Voldemort or his Death Eaters hunt them down for information right after he turned seventeen.

If Snape did not tell his master about his unhappy life in Little Whinging, it could be indeed considered a tactic move to finally get to him. Flashbacks of his experience with dark magic hit Harry’s mind, especially the memories of a bleeding Malfoy, and without actively thinking, he knew that his remaining blood family, unpleasant and vicious as they were, did not deserve to be tortured or die.

No, they were in need of magical protection. The problem only was that it would take more than a ‘friendly talk’, as Arthur had suggested, to explain the seriousness of their situation and actually make them agree to go into hiding.

“Boy! I’m talking to you… Petunia, dear, what is wrong with him?”, bellowed his uncle, as always easily riled up by anything that did not go as planned. Harry had not even realized that someone had been talking to him.

“I don’t know, dad.”, said Dudley, munching on his fifth donut since London. “He is a bit dazed. And his eyes are a bit dead.”

Shrieking, Petunia stormed forward and grabbed Harry forcefully by his shoulders. “You! Tell me what happened at your freak school! We don’t want any freak diseases and funny stuff in our house!”, she hissed angrily and immediately went for the sink to scrub her hands.

Thinking for a moment, Harry sighed loudly until he finally came up with an idea.

“You remember the headmaster who visited us last year?”, he asked and felt a tiny bit of satisfaction at their flinching and uncomfortable nods.

“Well, he’s been killed a couple of days ago. By Voldemort, the guy who’s after me, who killed my parents and countless other families. Well, he was killed on his orders and his followers know how to get into the castle right now. It is only a matter of time until the wards will break here and you will be easily found. This letter here” – he held it up – “is from the nice man who helped Dudley after the incident with the toffee. They want to protect you, to relocate you where the bad ones won’t find you. It is important.”

“Haven’t you learned anything, boy? We are not engaging with anyone from your kind!”, Uncle Vernon shouted and wet Harry’s face with a remarkable amount of spit. With much difficulty, Harry suppressed wiping his face in order not to cause further provocation. A raised eyebrow would do.

“Oh, good.”, he shot back sardonically. “I am sure that if the hundreds of people, magical and non-magical alike, had been simply telling Voldemort and his henchmen that they had not wanted to disturb his business, they would have been spared instead of tortured into insanity or outright slaughtered.”

Uncle Vernon struggled for words, while Petunia and Dudley looked at him in terror. Over the years, Harry had developed a sharp tongue, but right now, there was no way to deny the seriousness behind his words and sneer.

“Yes, you’re right.”, Harry said quietly. “Voldemort takes what he wants, does what he wants and exploits what he wants. He wants me dead, and therefore, he will do anything to obtain his goal. You have to leave. They will torture you and when they find out that we never were a happy family who naturally knows about the other’s whereabouts, they will kill you as you are useless to them. To them, you’re just muggles, to be treated like vermin. One more or less, who cares... They don’t spare. They force their own children to become a murderer. You stand no chance against them.”

“But but but but… why don’t they stick with their people and leave us alone?”, spluttered Uncle Vernon and crossed his arms.

“Good question, dear Uncle. Why do nations fight wars against each other and not leave themselves alone? They could as well stick with their people. Just because we can do magic does not mean that we don’t face the same conflicts as all people all over this planet!”, Harry bellowed, losing his patience.

“Because they think everything non-freakish should be neutralized or oppressed. Because they think that we normal people have forced them into apartheid.”, said Petunia through gritted teeth and now, Harry saw in her eyes that she was lost in old memories. It was as though someone had deflated the air in the neat and sterile house.

“I heard your mother talk to our parents when I also visited them one day. I went to the storage room, hiding from her. We hadn’t seen each other for years, so she did not know where Vernon and I lived and therefore thought us safe. But she wanted them to hide as well, because she was apparently doing something for the 'good side' of your kind… anyways, before they could even pack their things, the broken gas pipeline was quicker.”, she tightly admitted.

Harry needed a moment to stomach this new revelation about his mother and her family. Ruffling his hair, he faced his aunt with an almost gentle gaze. This was not the right time to tell her who was likely responsible for the pipeline. It would only fuel their hatred and stray from the subject. He would have to call onto her common sense and the apparently closer connection to her own parents.

“So, you know what is at stake. We cannot force you, but believe me, I want you to be safe. This is not a game, I am afraid.”, he whispered before leaving the living room.

“Think about it, honestly. We are protected until I turn seventeen, but don’t make it a last-minute affair.”

After all, the first step in the right direction.

++++++++

Days later, Harry found himself groaning at the indistinct argument that took place in the living room for the umpteenth time. We go, we stay, we go for ourselves, we stay… it was an endless debate, but today, he did not care as much about them as usually.

Having finally emptied his entire school trunk for the first time in six years, Harry was packing useful things for his upcoming trip. Since there was no way to stop the bleeding that he had just received from Sirius’ broken mirror, he glanced longingly at Snape’s diary which was as empty as on the day of its receipt. With growing intensity, worry and fear washed over him.

Sighing, his attention shifted back to the mirror and his heart skipped several beats when he suddenly looked straight into Dumbledore’s blue eyes.

He was going insane, he thought, because when he took a second look, the only eyes staring at him were his very own, green as ever. However, Dudley had been right in an odd way; his gaze seemed emptier than usually.

Speaking of grief and emptiness; Harry had yet to read the obituary by Elphias Doge and the exposé of the biography about the late headmaster by none other than shameless Rita Skeeter.

As it turned out, the two articles could not diverge more and, on top of everything, only proved the foul being of Skeeter. The only thing they had in common was the painful reminder that Harry almost knew nothing about Dumbledore's past or him as a person.

Already in his first year, when socks were the thing Dumbledore claimed to desire the most, he had been lied to.

To him, it did not matter whether Dumbledore’s sister had been a Squib or not, but the thought of Dumbledore, the man with the knowing smile and twinkle in his eyes, as someone who stemmed from a broken, muggle-hurting and grief-stricken family, shook him.

The importance of his mission had only grown, if anything. And, if the Dursleys did not change their mind again, they would be off tomorrow evening, only moments before Harry’s last departure from the dreaded home of sixteen years. Then we could finally start working.

Harry looked outside in the dark summer night whose heaven looked similar to the one he saw in Godric’s Hollow.

If he were to meet a boggart on the spot, he couldn’t guarantee that it would take the shape of a dementor. For a moment, he felt like Mrs Weasley in Grimmauld Place, but instead of Ron, Mr Weasley, Ginny, Fred, George and the rest of the clan, Snape’s body would be laying at his feet, bruised and bloodied and lifeless.

Hedwig’s shriek ripped him out of his musing and he quickly gave her some treats, even though she had had far too few exercises. Since the Order expected Death Eaters in and around Surrey, the only communication was made at night via dark owls which would hardly be spotted. Hence, his snowy owl sat grumpy in her cage, munching on the biscuits with punctuated offence.

Suddenly, she dropped the last bit and spread her wings like she always did when a foreign animal stopped by. Harry jumped to the window and indeed, another owl was quickly approaching. What could it be now? Last night, they had agreed to send Dedalus Diggle and Amelia Bones and everything seemed organized.

It was the same grumpy, black owl which had informed him about detention at Hogwarts. Alarmed, Harry ripped the window open and without looking at him, the animal entered.

“Hedwig, keep it low! You’ll scare it and Uncle Vernon-”, Harry tried to calm her, but it was too late.

“BOY!!!”, shouted his uncle while banging the door open. “Just because we consider leaving tomorrow does not mean I can’t lay my hand on you tonight. Keep the damn bird quiet!”

Just when Harry thought that he was really going to strike him, the swooshing sound of a transforming animagus erupted. Instead of the black owl on the ground, there stood a thin, tall man now, his clothes as black as his hair.

“Severus!”, Harry blurted and he needed to restrain himself from falling into his arms straightaway.

“Potter… Mr Dursley…”, the low and silky voice spoke. Compared to the furious glitter in his eyes, every death glare Harry had received in six years at Hogwarts now looked like puppy eyes.

But before Uncle Vernon could be stupid enough to say something, his wife entered the room as well. Snape’s smirk increased viciously as he eyed Lily’s sister from head to toe.

“Petunia!”, he drawled. “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Aunt Petunia, dumbfounded like Harry had never seen her before, forgot all about her snappish attitude.

“Y-y-you.”, she stammered, her eyes darting between Harry and Snape. Then, something in her brain must have connected, for she pulled herself together awfully quick. Harry did not dare to breathe.

“I should have known so much. Vernon, that’s the awful boy… from Cokeworth.”, she seethed.

“Yes, it is I. I am the awful boy.”, hissed Snape and did nothing to diffuse the tension. Worse, he pulled his wand and approached the partly terrified, partly outraged couple.

“Interesting how terrified you have always been by magic and the cruelty that may come along with it. Even more interesting to find out that you did not once need magic to bring cruelty into this world…. Yes, I know what Potter has endured under your care and trust me; if there weren’t more important things to discuss with him, I would be too happy to give you a little pre-taste of what his arch enemy will do to you once he is the one who knocks.”

With every word that Snape stressed out in sheer malice, the room temperature dropped until Harry found himself as shivering as his aunt and uncle.

“You will forget that you have seen me. If you speak to anyone of my visit, I will find out and take proper care of you. Believe me, you will then be very sorry indeed. Did I make myself clear?”, Snape snarled and poked Uncle Vernon’s chest with the tip of his wand. Frantic nods were all he needed.

“Now go and leave this room alone for the remainder of your stay.”

The door was scarcely shut when Harry sprinted towards Snape and held on to him tightly. Just like in the forest, tears were streaming down his face. After all those days without a note or sign of life, Snape had come to see him personally. Nothing could outdo the feeling of the tall body next to his own and the intoxicating scent.

“Let me cast some spells, Harry.”, Snape murmured into his ear, but Harry pushed the wand back into the holster.

“The trace. We can’t do anything.”, he said and did not miss the way Snape’s jaw clenched.

After a moment of consideration, he shrugged and decided to lift Harry up and lay with him on the small bed, chest to chest. The former glowering black eyes were now soft, filled with affection and love.

“Then we’ll be quiet. I missed you so much, Harry.”, he murmured and kissed the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

“I thought you were hurt or… or worse…”, Harry whispered back, wiping away new tears that had found their way to his cheeks.

“I am staying at Malfoy Manor where most of them are… Harry, I can’t risk opening the diary as long as Nagini and he…”

“I get it.”, said Harry. “It’s just nice to have you here. How did you manage to-”

Thin lips met his halfway, and together, they quickly fell into a tender and starved kiss. Snape nibbed his lower lip, gently cupped his cheek and when his tongue nudged against Harry’s, it was as though a firework was lightning for them only.

“I am on patrol duty today and thought I could wander off a little... I am alone, given the fact that I have proven myself capable…”, Snape explained bitterly and closed his eyes. Surely, he wouldn’t forget what he had to do a couple of weeks ago.

“You can pass the wards, because you mean no harm to me, right?”, asked Harry and took the missing answer for a yes.

“How have you been doing, pumpkin?”

Harry swallowed hard.

“Not too well, if I am honest. I don’t know if you have read the things about Dumbledore, but I… I didn’t know… I still don’t know so many things… apart from that and trying to talk some sense into the Dursleys, I’ve been packing and practising occlumency. But that’s not important since I am still safe here. How are you?”, he finally said. Snape pulled him closer and captured his lower body with a long and slender leg.

“You’re not the only one who feels like he never knew the real Dumbledore… Regarding his past, I guess I know now more about the Dark Lord's than about his…”, he whispered hoarsely in his ear. “It’s beyond words, Harry, I won't lie. He’s started feeding hostages to Nagini… The bloodlust is crushing everything and ever since Albus is gone, he is preparing for your capture… Hush, don’t worry, the Order is prepared. I promise, but I can’t tell you why... You’ll see, darling.”

“Can we agree to never have secrets once this is over? I am still thinking of the big one you cannot tell me yet.”

“Don’t, Harry. It does no good. Like I said that night, I promise that you definitely see me for this purpose and until then, I’ll do my best to stay physically close to you as often as possible.”

Harry, who knew that there was so much to plan and discuss, suddenly did not feel like speaking much more. He was finally home again and the feeling of Snape laying right beside him, his long fingers stroking and cradling his body, was overwhelming.

Snape, sensing Harry’s silent cry for affection and care, showered him with kisses and murmured sweet nothings his ear. The longer he held Harry, the more the both of them felt their longing for each other’s whole body.

As if it was their last moment on earth together, they barely broke the passionate kiss, tongues intertwined, while getting rid of their clothes.

In the dim light, Harry was shocked to see Snape’s ribcage clearer than ever, but he forced himself to see past it, at least for the moment. One more reason to end it all sooner than later. He needed to get his partner safe.

His lips therefore captured every new scar his pale skin had gotten. Snape carried them like stains, but to Harry, they were nothing less than the only visible proof for his inhuman bravery.

Once he had made himself comfortable on his back, Snape’s groin dictated the agitated rhythm and Harry, kneeling between his angled legs, could not help but shiver in delight. Neither of them would last long, but that hardly mattered. A never-ending rush of love and lust flowed through their veins and Harry’s wicked fingers quickly brought them to throbbing erections.

After a short but thorough stretching, Harry held back a loud moan when the heat and tightness of Snape engulfed him again. The rhythmic contraction of his muscles milked him so hard that he was seeing stars already and the fact that they were being forced to remain silent and make as few squeaking noises as possible on the old mattress appealed to both in a maddeningly arousing way.

Snape perfectly completed Harry’s passionate thrusts, leaving them both sweat-soaked and close to heaven. His hands were constantly caressing the kneeling body, pulling the adorable young face with the untidy black hair and emerald green eyes closer to his.

Shifting a little, Harry and Snape both knew from their suppressed gasps that he had hit the spot inside his man. He would die rather than lose the memory of it.

In between frantic kisses, which were ought to silence the panting and stifle the urge to cry out loudly, Harry thought that releasing himself inside Snape was the most freeing thing he had done in a long while.

In the aftermath of their shared love, Harry rested on Snape’s chest, listening to the pounding heart as though it wanted to tell him that it rather stayed with him where it belonged, not with the darkness and death.

“Speaking of…”, Harry mumbled at some point. “What about the Malfoy’s?”

Beneath him, Snape stiffened and the fingers, which were softly ghosting over the firm hills that were his buttocks, halted. Harry, unsure how to interpret the reaction, lifted his head and saw to his horror, that tears welled in the black eyes.

“The… the Dark Lord still thinks about an appropriate punishment, so killing them is off the table… too fast and Draco will need to recruit new followers at Hogwarts… at the moment, they are both alive and relatively unharmed. He has also claimed Lucius’ wand for himself and thereby made them guests in their own home.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He still had not forgotten about the ferret threatening Snape and being obsessed with the man he loved. Now, that he had brought up the subject, an indistinct fear crept through his veins. Snuggling closer, he inhaled Snape’s reassuring scent until his mind recalled what else he had just learned.

“He doesn’t want to fight me with the twin core, right?”

“Yes, Ollivander has recommended the use of another’s wand. But, Harry, I rather have you not fight him at all, at least until the horcruxes are killed. Therefore, keep your head down, see that you safely arrive at wherever they will bring you and no stunts or anything rash, you hear me?”

Snape gently turned Harry on his back, his eyes piercing as if they were back in potions.

“You’ve practised well, Harry. I guess you did not even feel my attempt. Promise me to look after yourself, especially tomorrow night. As I will do. I’ll try to write you shortly.”, he went on.

Confused, Harry sat up and frantically shook his head at the sight of Snape getting dressed again. His mind had always known that he likely could not spend the whole night with him, but nevertheless, he had hoped for a bit more time.

“My replacement is about to show up in a short while and I better be prepared.”, he explained and knelt before Harry, his eyes all soft again.

“I love you, Harry Potter, I always will. Now, let me go and contribute to our cause. Be careful, my darling.”

“I love you, too.”, whispered Harry and kissed him until his heart forgot about the pain and fear of being left alone again.

When Snape transformed into the grumpy owl, he wondered with a sad smile why he had not made the connection earlier and watched as his man flew away.


	2. The Danger from Within

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry arrives more or less unharmed at The Burrow, but the price the Order had to pay was high. Shaken, he makes a hard decision after drawing a conclusion that should have better been ignored.

Seven Potters to bring the true Harry safely to The Burrow. A suicide squad, consisting of six of his friends who seemed happy about the fact that they were risking their lives even more by impersonating him, and another seven who had no qualms about acting as bodyguards.

It was madness and Harry could not agree more with the real Mad-Eye Moody that it was unlikely to enjoy a picture-perfect flight over Britain these days.

At least Snape knew that he was going to be picked up today, and although Harry was not sure how he had exactly received this well-protected information, now that his Order days were over, he was positive that Snape would not betray him to Voldemort.

Harry definitely knew that he did not entirely trust Mundungus Fletcher, and Moody’s barking in the emptied living room of his aunt did nothing to stop the little shivers from running down his spine. He remembered Fletcher from Grimmauld Place and how he had tried to impersonate an Inferius just to get away with whatever dubious business he had been dealing with. Worse, his stout figure and nervous ticks reminded him of Wormtail, whose betrayal could hardly be surpassed. A bad omen, Trewlawny would certainly say.

A little relief came up when Moody announced to be Fletcher’s partner, while the real Harry would be accompanied by Hagrid on Sirius’ old motorbike. It left a bittersweet note to everyone who was aware of the story behind.

Harry looked back at the house that he had to call home for sixteen years, and the twisted feeling of leaving a place equally dreaded and familiar clouded his mind more than he first realized. Hagrid gave the engine quite the howl and before Harry could see to his slightly shifted occlumency shields, they were already up in the air.

++++++++

The crickets chirped loudly, disrupting the otherwise deafening peace of the night around The Burrow, which spent no comfort for the first time to the whole extended Weasley clan.

Wide awake, Harry laid on his bed close to the opened window, struggling whether to prefer the natural noises outside or the steady snoring from Ron. At least, the sawing sound assured him that his best friend was still alive. Now that he did not feel all eyes upon him, the first tears felt ready to run down his cheeks and wet the pillow beneath.

The latest betrayal of their plans had torn healing wounds all open again, even added a few more to tend to. George’s groans of pain had ebbed down an hour ago, as had Mrs Weasley’s efforts to brew a larger stock of Blood Replenishing Potion. Compared to all major and minor scars and scraps, the loss of Moody felt like a limb had been ripped off them.

Moody, the ‘constant vigilance’ of them, had been murdered somewhere above England. Having yet another member to mourn without a body to bury choked on Harry as much as the loss of Hedwig.

Apart from grief, fear had poisoned their haven and current headquarters. The fear that Voldemort could find them, because of a detail they had missed, a blank space they had yet to discover or because a spy and traitor that was amongst them and kept a low profile now that another major damage had been done.

Tossing and turning on the mattress, Harry’s mind did not stop working. Everyone had suspected Fletcher to be the traitor, at least until it was revealed that he had suggested Potter decoys. Contrarily to most of his fellow Order members, Harry fully understood that the one did not exclude the other.

However, Fletcher, cunning as he might be, did not strike him as someone brilliant enough to work on such a plan. It contained way too much of self-sacrifice for someone who loved lurking in dark corners and always paying attention that he got away, preferably with the lion’s share of something valuable.

On the other hand, he would not be the first man to have matured and changed his point of view, had he? A lump formed in Harry’s throat.

Snape could not have spilled the actual date to Voldemort, could he? He had been attacking Harry-George, severely injured him even, and he could not have known of the decoys, unless he had committed another crime and done something bad with Fletcher.

No matter what; Sectumsempra had left another scar on this world and once more, Harry cursed everybody who had not truly seen Snape as a teenager and tried to do something.

After exploring Tom Riddle’s past with Dumbledore, who had always been suspicious of the orphan, Harry was sure that the late headmaster had not known of the miserable life of another Slytherin boy with no real home. Or else, he would have done something. Dumbledore never appeared to Harry as someone who would not have learned from previous mistakes and experiences.

Thinking of the once handsome Riddle boy with the hungry gaze and charming aura, his mood suddenly shifted.

Harry’s mind, even though he did not want it to and even though he had tried harder than ever to occlude before bedtime, pictured Voldemort, always aware of his magical abilities, sitting at the head end of a large wooden table. He was laughing madly and cackling like only Bellatrix Lestrange usually did.

_“You’ve been brilliant, my boy.”, he cheered in a high and cold voice while Nagini’s hisses sounded equally amused. To his right, Severus sat on a dark chair, facing his master with a very satisfied smirk on his lips._

_“There is nothing that I wouldn’t do for you, my Lord.”, he said silkily, his long eyelashes shortly fluttering. Voldemort stretched out a spidery hand and gently caressed the no less pale cheek of Harry’s partner._

_“I know, my faithful servant, and I promise to reward you. The world shall never forget your name and how you managed to destabilize the Order from within. All for the cause. Unlike some… you are so selfless, so brilliant, so smart, Severus… a worthy Slytherin indeed.”, Voldemort whispered and eyed his other Death Eaters, who were cowering in their seats and avoiding their master's burning red eyes and bared teeth._

_Severus’ cheeks blushed from the undoubtedly high praise of his master who rose from his throne-like chair, looking disgusted by his own warm words. Suddenly, his snake-like face turned into a real grimace and a marble sculpture behind the table burst into millions of pieces._

_“As you can see, our beloved spy has been right to stay close to Dumbledore and Harry Potter himself. Stop the jealousy and bad talking about this man at once or face the consequences.”, he offered in sweet tones that made the threat all the more frightening. He was beyond mad and Harry could not help but feel pity for a cowering Malfoy, who shivered worse than anybody else._

A particular sonorous snore from Ron brought Harry back to reality. Panting, he now did not dare to make a move, least to exhale profoundly. Of all times possible, this was for sure the worst moment to get those bloody visions again. Voldemort, either showing him the truth or manipulating him, was meant to stay out of his mind.

Minutes passed until Harry felt safe and sane enough to move and slowly sat up. Had Voldemort really been inside his head again? Compared to the memories of earlier attacks that had been safely pushed to the back of his mind, he had not felt like being the monster, he had not even seen the scenery through those glistening red eyes.

Maybe, his heart was confusing fear with reality and had only shown him what it had not been ready to even consider an option: That Snape had betrayed them once more, no matter if by choice or need.

Reaching for his watch on the nightstand, his clammy fingers touched the notebook instead and all of a sudden, Harry could sense a tingle of magic escaping it.

Not caring if his jerky move would wake up Ron or not, he opened the first pages and indeed, a very spidery writing appeared on the first page.

> _Who did I hit? Try ‘Vulnera Sanentur’ to stop the bleeding or else, the wound will never close properly. You have to do it; the others won’t understand and thus don’t make it right._

Snape had nerves of steel, that much was clear. For a brief moment, Harry wondered why he had hoped to read a message from him after the disastrous night. Had he been so blinded by love that he was already unable to see the visible and face the consequences?

A wave of anger and fury hit him. He felt humiliated by the vision or whatever the hell it had been, he felt weak and vulnerable and exposed, something that had always riled him up. His patience was wearing thin.

> **Anything else you would like to say? Or are you planning to come through the journal and get me, now that the fucking lot of you had a good laugh at my expense? I thought you wanted to keep me, keep us safe!**

The ink sunk into the thin paper, leaving nothing behind. The diary was scarily similar to the horcrux, and Harry would not have been surprised if Snape had placed some secret travel magic in it.

> _Harry James Potter!!! I had to tell them the exact date of your relocation since I am still their spy. But it’s always good to know that you actually thought Fletcher smart enough to think of decoys. I am sure this perception will help you immensely. Oh, by the way, my writing is naturally worse than ever, because I am still shaking with laughter here at Malfoy Manor, especially since you are safe and sound at The Burrow!!!!_

Shit, Harry thought. He had been misled by his emotions again. Like a beginner, not like the two-faced wizard who had left Hogwarts in order to destroy the darkest magician of all times and protect the ones close to him.

He had rushed headfirst to conclusions again and thereby deeply hurt the person he loved the most. His words must have cut Snape like the curse he had once created, leaving scars on his soul after all what had happened yesterday and tonight.

Panicking, he grabbed his quill and started scribbling, as long as magic was humming along the notebook.

> **I've been stupid, fuck! Forgive me, Severus!!! Something strange just happened to me and loosing Moody and Hedwig hurt so much… I can’t think straight, my mind is bursting even though I occluded. I'm so sorry, please, believe me!**
> 
> **This is a poor apology as strange things will likely happen in the future, but know that I got so angry because I did not want to believe the simple fact to be true, regardless of the intentions behind. I love you and I already feel like going insane when you’re not around. I love you, Severus. More than anything else.**
> 
> **By the way, it was George.**

He recalled Snape’s words again when an invisible hand seemed to slap him across the face.

> **YOU’VE BEEN TORTURED?!?!?!?**

Snape took his time to reply, but at least he did. Knowing his short temper, Harry would not have been surprised if he had just set his notebook on fire. His heart raced at abnormal speed, so quick that Harry was shortly under the impression of suffering from ventricular fibrillation.

He needed to get himself under control. Everybody had lost someone dear during the war. He needed to stop feeling sorry for himself and thereby endanger the people around him even more. Snape was right. At the moment, they were safe while he had to sleep next door to the monsters in black, pretending to hate Harry Potter and everbody on his side.

> _Well, he did not like to be tricked and lose you just again._
> 
> _Sorry for taking offence, I'm just as exhausted. I replayed the evening and understand what made you draw those conclusions. Forgive me if I can’t just come straight to the point like noble Gryffindors would do. We have to get ourselves under control or else, we will screw it all up!_
> 
> _Therefore, let me make myself clear: I LOVE YOU AND I AM COMMITTED TO DO ANYTHING TO HELP YOU, DUNDERHEAD, EVEN IF ANYTHING MEANS SOMETHING UNPLEASANT!!!! _
> 
> _Take care of George, then. I hope there will be a time I can tell him that my spell missed MacNair, who was aiming at Lupin’s back and would have certainly hit his target._
> 
> _I’m sorry for your loss. I liked Hedwig, and Alastor was more than a capable and devoted fighter._
> 
> _There is ALWAYS something strange happening around you. Explain yourself, quick!_

Harry roughly summed up what had happened in the dream-like thing and also described what his wand had done while fighting Voldemort mid-air, saving him from death. Assuring Snape that he had been occluding and was not even sure if he had a real vision, he hoped that the brilliant man would have an explanation for both worrying curiosities.

> _A situation like this never happened. He is not affectionate and would never openly protect any of us. He likes to spread distrust among us to ensure that he will be the centre of information and control. Besides, there was nothing to celebrate tonight, since Alastor’s death could surely not make up the failed operation._
> 
> _For now, try to get as much rest as possible, regardless of the red-headed clan around you. Exhaustion could have caused some sort of panic attack, and I agree with you that this vision differs too much from your ‘regular’ ones. You occlumency training remains top priority (as will mine)!_
> 
> _Record every strange dream, vision or hallucination you have! Apart from the first ten pages, the notebook works perfectly normal._
> 
> _As for the wand thing… I don’t know… It looks like he has found another obsession than hunting you down and splitting his soul… sorry, that was macabr-someone’s coming_

And with that, the diary went blank and flabby in his hands. Harry stared at the opened page, quickly processing what he had learned. He was terribly ashamed of himself for simply having thought of Snape as a true Death Eater.

Once more, he wondered if he was worth Snape’s unconditional and sacrificing love at all. Compared to the things Snape had done for him and their cause, he suddenly felt incredible small and inapt. Apart from a prophecy and his parents’ love, there was nothing he could do or knew better than Snape, Dumbledore or Voldemort. Did he even stand a chance against the monster, once all horcruxes would be destroyed? 

Worse, he had just rewarded his tortured partner by accusing him of betrayal, showing him that he had not fully trusted him. It was due to Snape's intelligence and gained maturity that they had not split up. Harry thought of the shock earlier this night when the remaining had checked themselves for imposters.

His hothead and incompetence were not only endangering Snape’s life and risking the fight against Voldemort, but also putting everyone else he cared of in even more mortal danger.

Not to mention the countless innocent witches and wizards and all the muggles who still thought that the accidents in their world were mere accumulating coincidences.

Harry had enough. He could no longer stay behind, hide in the house of the family which had basically adopted him and wait until he would cause more damage on the next occasion.

Voldemort was a permanent threat, but he, Harry Potter, was the immediate danger from within.

He would go on the mission on his own. Screw the last few days of being underage. He could hide well, always had, even as a little boy when Dudley and his gang had been out for his neck. And, there was still his father’s cloak. So far, nobody but Moody with his magical eye and Dumbledore with his studies about it had discovered him.

Picking up his backpack, he glanced at a peacefully sleeping Ron and silently bid him good-bye, not farewell. No matter what would happen, Harry swore to himself to come back alive and make amends. One day, they would understand. It was for their own good, no matter how painful it was for everybody to believe.

As for Snape; they needed to stay in touch, at least until Harry had found a way to get by as independently as possible and track down the horcruxes on his own. Just in case that another stupidity of him would cause Snape to lose control of his occlumency one day.

He loved Snape more than he loved himself, he realized. Therefore, he would also learn to live with the pain of a love that should have never seen the light of the day in these times.

++++++++

“Come on now, Harry! We have to get you back into the house!”, said Hermione and slowly dragged him, still half unconscious, into the kitchen.

Instead of doing and learning it all on his own, his first lecture had been that there was no way fooling either Ron or Hermione, his two best friends who knew him like no other. Apart from Snape, maybe, but their relationship could not be more different. As it turned out, he would accomplish the mission with his friends, but swore to himself to work harder than ever in order to protect them.

Harry panted heavily, a hand still clutching against his scar that burned like in the night Voldemort had regained his body and powers.

Ollivander, being missing for over a year now, was kept hostage at a Death Eater house, probably Malfoy Manor. And Voldemort, terrifyingly furious although having taken out the first rage on his followers already, tortured him repeatedly for information why Lucius Malfoy’s wand had not done what it had been supposed to do.

He needed to tell Snape about this as soon as possible, because even if this last vision outside meant that the thing in Ron’s room had not been real or dangerous indeed, it was also proof that there was something wrong with his occlumency shields.


	3. Presents and Promises for Eternity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the days prior to Harry's birthday and the wedding of Bill and Fleur seem already packed with countless happenings, one would do well to evade the ceremony or brace for far less pleasant consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for letting you wait this long! I suddenly got really upset with my former plannings and therefore re-thought the whole story. Please don't be cross with me!

It was almost midnight and the opened window could not cool the boiling heat that haunted Harry from deep within. Ron snored again on the other bed while he struggled to even breathe evenly. Hot tears of anger, frustration and loneliness leaked from his eyes and once more, he found himself ready to scream in sheer desperation.

Truth be told, feeling lonely at the full-time overcrowded Burrow came close to a miracle, but above all, it was the sour proof that all in all, his seventeenth birthday had been an overwhelming affair. Even without the fuss and all, quite a few things had happened in such little time:

During the past days, bad omen had already shown up in the details of the wedding preparation, which had grated on everybody’s nerves on top of everything. Starting with the Weasley parents who missed no opportunity to separate the three friends and tried to interrogate them about their further plans, over Ginny who had hugged him far too long for his own taste on the morning of his birthday to the heated discussion about whether a trip to Godric’s Hollow should be the next step or not.

Hermione, who had nicked some of the dark magic books from Dumbledore which Harry had seen in Snape’s quarters as well, reminded him painfully at his partner with her persistence and logical approach.

Snape, too, would have told Harry off for even thinking of spending a day or two in Godric’s Hollow. Grimmauld Place was what he had referred to repeatedly, and therefore, Harry found himself next trapped in discussions whether the house was safe or not.

Worse, the diary had remained as blank as most of the time and Harry constantly wondered what Voldemort was up to in the meantime. Maybe, he the day prior to his birthday had not been that bad, but as long as Harry did not know how Snape was doing and if he was as safe as possible, his heart was constantly clouded with an uncertainty that fuelled his ambition and suffocated him at the same time.

The vision of Voldemort searching a man called Gregorovitch, an unknown but familiar name to him, was as alarming as reassuring as it gave him something to think of, an insight, maybe even a clue that could lead him to an actual plan, regardless of the dream’s authenticity. A false one would help him understand better and evade certain situations, whereas a true one would provide real information.

While the arrival of Mr and Mrs Delacour eased and lightened up the mood and shifted the focus to the wedding of Fleur and Bill, Harry still felt more than guilty to drag his entire surrogate family, mentors and friends into the awaiting danger.

Receiving the old wrist watch from Mrs Weasley’s late brother on the morning of his birthday had not lifted the weight off his shoulders, even though it had been a very touching moment and Harry had felt fully appreciated as a true family member.

Unfortunately, Ginny’s birthday present had almost caused a rift between Ron, who had thought that Harry was playing games with her, and him, who once more had wished to tell them about his secret partner but could not. Forced into silence hurt already enough, even without misunderstandings and false hopes.

It was also quite enough that both Ron and Hermione had been more than cautious around him whenever it came to his love life, even though Harry knew that it was probably for the best.

He was still not entirely friends with the idea that they would accompany him wherever he had to go to, but after their own sacrifices like putting their family either in danger or sending them off to another continent without remembering the own child, he also thought that they might though that had made too many sacrifices to leave them behind.

However, seeing a rather sad Remus and a radiantly happy Tonks had been a pleasure, but in the end, the Minister of Magic had come to reveal Dumbledore’s Will to them on a last-minute occasion and thereby caused Harry to almost get into new trouble with the corrupt institution.

Of course, Dumbledore, who had read the signs better than anyone else, had not left them with anything plain but extremely cryptic to downright confusing. It was interesting that the snitch still seemed to be the clearest object of all, whereas the Tales of Beetle the Bard and the Deluminator did not enlighten him even after hours of discussions and considerations.

The Ministry had presented itself through the Minister just as weak, unreliable and unfocused on the true and pressing matters as Harry had gotten used to. Making a fuss out of Dumbledore’s Will, the only man Voldemort had ever feared, seemed a very disturbing priority to him while the darkest wizard of all times was gaining power and influence by the day.

But maybe, it had been too late for the Ministry already and too many places and positions had been already turned to the dark side without Scrimgeour being aware of it. Besides, their actions were so close to the boundaries of magical law and the way they had tried to make Harry comply with them had left him with a sour and repulsive aftertaste that almost rivalled his hatred for Voldemort and his likes.

++++++++

Now, hours later, Harry laid wide awake on his bed and played absentmindedly with the snitch, clearly intrigued by his flesh memory. ‘I open at the close’ was written on its golden and ornated surface, leaving Harry more confused than ever. How in the world was he supposed to know when the end was near? And what small thing on earth could it contain to help him on the home stretch to kill Voldemort once and for all?

With a new breeze that refreshened the air in the small room, a realization suddenly hit him. The Sword of Gryffindor. He had gone through it with Snape and yet he had been too occupied, too unfocused to see it from the beginning. Dumbledore had wanted him to have the artefact in order to destroy horcruxes.

Its blade was drenched in basilisk venom and since Harry had been too dumb to go back to the Chamber of Secrets and retrieve some of the snake’s fangs, he was now left without anything to destroy it. Then again, it was not a pressing inconvenience for now as they had yet to find the real horcrux.

Sighing, Harry stretched his body and glanced at the silent diary. His mind was fully aware of the fact that whatever Snape was currently tasked to do would not respect his birthday or any kind of distraction, but his heart had hoped for the tiniest message nevertheless.

He wanted to sleep and then wake up in a world where Snape and he could go to the meadow for a picnic, just like in his dream all those weeks ago.

Suddenly, a familiar hoot disturbed the silenced and when Harry sat straight in his bed, not startling Ron a bit, he saw an owl resting on the windowsill. It was pitch black and looked as grumpy as ever. Snape had come to see him.

Harry quickly wiped away the first happy tears for the day and allowed Snape to fly in and rest on his lap. The black owl immediately snuggled up against him and impatiently held up a claw on which a small letter was tied to.

“You don’t do things halfway, do you?”, Harry whispered and kissed the top of the animagus’ head, while one hand cradled the soft and fluffy feathers and the other still fidgeted with the tight knot on the claw.

Once the note was finally loose, Harry hid under the duvet and cast a quick ‘Lumos’, whereas Snape made no effort to change into his human form. Instead, he rested on the pillow next to his head and affectionately nibbed on the earlobe while Harry unfolded the parchment.

 _Dear birthday ~~boy~~ man, _he read and a broad smile appeared on his lips.

_In spite of the situation that we are currently dealing with, I wish you a wonderful birthday and hope that you could enjoy the time with your friends and family as much as possible._

_I am deeply sorry for not writing earlier – the circumstances have been less than ideal to say the least – but I played my part well enough to leave the house for tonight unwatched. Next year, however, I hope that I will be lying right next to you in my human form and celebrate your birthday properly._

_According to a fellow ‘colleague’, you have upset the Minister once more and I cannot express how proud I am of you – and your friends. Do not trust the Ministry at all since they are up to something. _

_Sadly, I am not aware of details, because, as you know, my fields lay elsewhere, but at last, I could make someone open the wards for the night to allow owls access to the Burrow. I am unable to change back without triggering other alarms, but I hope my feathery presence is fine, too._

_Anyway, do not worry about the sword for now. Just let me know when you have found a horcrux. Finding them is the utmost priority. Dumbledore has been a great lover of riddles and answers are often found upon the way only, sometimes even in corners one does not look at closely._

_How are you doing with all the red-heads around you? Are you sleeping well and getting enough time to prepare yourself? I hope the occlumency training helps you close your mind, because he is getting madder by the day. Tell me if I can be of help._

_As for the wedding, of which the whole Ministry is aware, I don’t know if you’ve had time to think of it, but I find myself rather worried about your safety. Promise me to lay low and not make anything foolish. I would be surprised if the Dark Lord missed such an opportunity._

_Speaking of weddings in general; it appears a little odd to see so many people tying the knot on one hand, but on the other hand, the current situation might be the best reason to do it and bring some hope and love into this world._

_I want you to know that you are deeply loved in every minute of every day, Harry, and that the bond we share provides me with the much-needed strength to pull through. When this is over, we’ll be a proper family, too, in a world where no pain and terror exist any longer._

_Until then, take the necklace as my promise and birthday present at once – I am sure you’ve been focusing on stroking my head, back, wings and belly rather than this part of my body and are thus quite oblivious to it._

_Enough about me, my wonderful birthday man, I am all yours now and I can’t wait to hear your beautiful voice (try for an owl as an animagus form one day; the hearing alone is worth it)._

_I love you,  
S_

_P.S.: Burn this letter!_

After a quick ‘Nox’, Harry threw back the duvet and laid on his side to face the curious and slightly insecure looking owl. With more tears of joy and love wetting the pillow underneath them, he simply stroking the owl’s neck and kissed its belly until a quiet coo made him stop and directly stare into Snape’s face which showed a profound happiness, through the animal features even.

When Harry’s fingers found indeed a necklace under the dense plumage, he tried his best to loosen the clasp and gasped in awe at the sight of the silver metal with a charm that took the shape of the infinity symbol. He quickly enlarged and pulled it around his neck.

“I love and miss you so much, do you know that? And I can’t wait either to be a proper family with you.”, he whispered and kissed the owl’s face one more time.

“This means so much to me, thank you… As for me; the Weasley’s are great, but it hurts to see them so determined. They’re almost as stubborn as you... I’ve had a lovely day apart from Scrimgeour, that is, but there have also been two dreams recently.” – Snape's eyes squinted reproachfully in the dim moonlight– “I am occluding, I swear that I am not doing anything differently than at Hogwarts! Can you think of a reason why I know that Ollivander was punished after my departure from the Dursley’s or why he is abroad to search a man called Gregorovitch? Why I've seen this at all?”, Harry whispered quickly, afraid of losing too much time.

“Just write me when you find something out, will you? And don’t worry too much about me, you need to stay focused. I’ll be disguised as another Weasley tomorrow – Polyjuice Potion and hair from a red-headed muggle village boy. I am safe, honestly. One more Weasley won’t catch any attention at all.”

Snape did not look reassured in the slightest. With his all-black feathers, beak and eyes, he looked even grumpier and warily than as a human. And, by the way he ruffled his feathers and inclined his head, it was clear that something worried him or had attracted his attention, but as long as he was forced to appear as an owl, there was no way of telling Harry directly.

Suddenly, Harry realized that there was a huge flaw in their plan.

“The wedding and area will be protected by the Ministry, but you said that we can’t rely on them…”, he whispered in shock and even the thought of being unprotected at one point made his stomach flip. While Snape tried to calm him with an outstretched wing that caressed his cheek, the steely expression on his face revealed that this was the reason to worry.

“I’ll look at your paper and add a few more warning and protective charm like the ‘ _fortessa’_. And I’ll try to convince them to keep watch in turns. And I’ll think of a quick escape route, just in case…”, Harry talked to himself, still fighting the urge of throwing up.

Getting past the wards tomorrow would be the ultimate wet dream of any Death Eater as they would not only expect him to be around, but also could take out almost every fighter and rebel. Losing more people to the cause tore Harry apart. Once more, he would need to be as cunning as resourceful as possible.

At some point during his musings, Snape had begun to nib affectionately at his nose and earlobes. He seemed satisfied with Harry’s thinking, but then, his composure suddenly crumbled and the left wing cramped forcefully.

The Dark Mark was burning. Voldemort was calling him back. Had the unwatched leave been a trap in reality? Or had someone found out that Snape had forced someone to take down a protection of the Burrow? One way or the other, the only way to find out was to let Snape return to the place of death and horror.

“Go, darling, I look after myself. Go, and be careful… I love you.”, breathed Harry in blinding fear and gut-wrenching pain. Snape briefly snuggled up against him before spreading his shaking wings and flying away into the darkness.

Trembling from head to toe, Harry got up and stared after him until he finally found the courage to throw his birthday letter out of the window and cast several ‘Incendio’ until one of the charms finally hit the target.

The sight of the burning scraps of paper falling onto the ground left a terrible and morbid taste on his tongue. It looked as though his world was slowly falling apart and burning into ashes as well while there was so little to hold up against the ever-quickening development.

Voldemort was omnipresent, and for as long as the creature lived, the only thing he could really do was to pursue his task and forbid himself to be distracted by any kind of dream or hypothesis that was not directly linked to horcruxes.

“What’s the matter, Harry?”, yawned Ron, still half-asleep and watching his friend with a confused and dazzled expression.

“Nothing, Ron… I just woke up and took a deep breath… Good night.”; Harry quickly said and hid under the blanket again.

++++++++

Heavily panting, Harry stormed past Ron and Hermione and collapsed onto a stray chair in Grimmauld Place’s dining room where not even two years ago so many of the Order meetings had been held. Right now, the place looked so dead that it could as well serve Voldemort as a hiding place.

Memory flashes hit him and he saw Sirius sitting at the head end; Snape and Sirius almost attacking each other as well as the celebration of his fifteenth birthday among his friends and Order members. Pictures from long time ago when nobody could have expected things to turn this evil.

So much had happened again in less than twenty-four hours that Harry’s mind, already weakened by the constant stabs of his scar, seemed to block every attempt to think straight and relive anything at all. It felt almost as bad as at the end of his fifth year with all the stars that appeared in his vision.

“Harry, your scar is hurting! I thought you had learned to block the connection! What if it’s not the trace that has given us away, but something darker, something that should not exist at all?”, Hermione berated him mercilessly and Harry had to fight the urge to shout back at her.

“Leave him be, ‘Mione, if it was about tracking us through scar, they would have sent more than those two…”, Ron said and patted Harry’s shoulder understandingly. “Can you tell what it is this time?”

“He’s bloody angry.”, Harry replied through gritted teeth and kept rubbing his forehead, fully aware of the fact that it would not ease the pain at all. It was still better than just sitting there and waiting until he fainted or threw up from the pain, he mused.

“Angry at our family? Or that we escaped right under their noses? Or that we harmed two of his henchmen?”, Ron pressed further, his mind and ability to put single pieces together coming back to life. Harry did not blame him for squealing in fear about his family, he felt the same and wondered if everybody could have escaped as well.

“He’s blinded with fury.”, he quickly said and tried to focus on the worried faces of his two best friends while maintaining his occlumency shields. The pain ebbed slightly away when he pictured the feeling and roaring sound of the air around him during a Quidditch match. Nevertheless, it still felt like the pain was a very awake monster book of monsters while his occlumency resembled a rather worn belt to keep it together.

Just when Harry was about to excuse himself, the now familiar rush of an arriving patronus echoed from afar, leaving the three of them holding their breath.

A weasel, Mr Weasley’s patronus, lightened up the dining room with its silvery shimmer and his voice cut through the silence. _“Snape took a cousin of Fleur’s. Rest of the family safe, do not reply, we are being watched."_

The message of yet another hostage was the straw that finally broke the camel’s back. While he understood Ron and Hermione’s relief, he jumped to his feet and ran upstairs to the bathroom. Considering the force of the attack, one hostage was probably good news to all of them and they were probably already planning on how to break the girl free, but Harry, who knew first-hand how hostages were treated under Voldemort’s command, could hardly feel relief at the message.

Fleur’s cousins, around his age and a few years younger even, were the least involved with the ongoing war. In fact, not all of them had even spoken English and had just come to see her cousin get married to a wizard from a foreign country. He wondered whether someone had even informed them about Voldemort, but then again, it did not matter at the moment as the damage was done. Another family ripped apart and left in terror, because a madman was after him, Harry Potter.

And why, of all people, had Snape been involved with the raid? What had Voldemort done to him last night? Or had he cracked under the pressure, because Harry’s confession of having visions and dreams again had damaged his confidence and believe in their cause to a point where his own occlumency had failed him?

Unable to breathe, the overall pain regained dominance over his body and mind and, without the faintest indication, his scar tore up, making him feel as though someone had just drowned his head in a bucket of boiling water.

Suddenly, he was standing in another dark and cold room, a crackling fire right beside him and another man lying spread-eagled on the ground. He was writhing in pain and suppressed grunt after grunt.

_“You deserve it, Rowle, you know it… all of you should deserve so much more pain… I don’t know if I will forgive you for this. All I know is that I am still merciful enough to let you choose between my wrath or Nagini…”, he said in Voldemort’s cold and high voice that dripped with venom. The man said nothing. He did not even dare to lift his head a bit._

_“He escaped twice this evening, twice! And you called me back and wonder now that I am punishing you?! I don’t know what to do with you anymore… same for you, the alleged precious pureblood prince... Do your job, Draco, and do it well… or else, not even Severus will be able to protect you any longer…”_

_And Malfoy, a sorry shadow of his former boasting and arrogant self, raised his wand to his left and sent another Cruciatus to the crying man on the floor._

The taste of copper finally brought him back to Grimmauld Place. Harry was lying on the floor as well, his legs trembling and hand bleeding from a bite that had likely absorbed a shrill scream of his own.

Another vision. Another crack in his occlumency shields. At this rate, they would not even last until the end of month.

“Harry? You’re alright? I’ve got your toothbrush and private bag that you have given me earlier.”, Hermione said from the other side of the door, fortunately not entering the bathroom.

Harry tried his best to sound normal and when he took his belonging out of Hermione’s hand, something inside the bag was shining through the fabric.

Snape.

He ignored her raised eyebrow and suspicious glare and shut the door within the blink of an eye.

> _I’ll do whatever needs to be done. Stay where you are._

Whatever Snape was not telling him by this announcement and order, Harry finally crumbled under its weight and loveless content. For the first time, he searched for the vials that Snape had left him in Hogwarts and gulped down a the only Dreamless Sleep Potion he could find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't wonder if some chapters or parts are left out - it's got something to do with the narrative and communication style of this part of the series. I hope you enjoyed chapter three! :)


End file.
